


Bedroom bestiary and urgent gems

by NTK



Series: Who needs plans anyway [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Bottoming from the Top, Geralt feels domestic, Geraskier, Impregnation Kink, Jaskier feels weird, M/M, Not Beta Read, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Omega Verse, Power Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Teasing, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, so many vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23819050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NTK/pseuds/NTK
Summary: Sequel to ‘Letters, peril and chocolate gherkins’ – Sweet idiots with morning boners get creative and things could be great – if only Jaskier didn't feel so weird. Geralt receives an offer of help from a half-expected party and more friends come into play…
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Who needs plans anyway [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700353
Comments: 20
Kudos: 362





	Bedroom bestiary and urgent gems

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who read, liked and/or commented on the prequels to this story! If you are still on board with me, KUDOS TO YOU LOVELY PEOPLE!! <3  
> This is getting longer than I had expected. I don’t mind though, not one bit. Corona is doing its harm out there, so there is no time like the present to immerse oneself in homoerotic literature, safely tugged away from society. On that note, I do hope all of you, your families and friends stay healthy and get through this crazy time alright.  
> Onwards! The song Jaskier sings came to my mind with the melody of ‘Gaston’ from Beauty and the Beast, only with a calmer pace – and then I couldn’t get the image of naked Geraskier dancing and singing a smutty version of Gaston’s chorus out of my mind. Sorry :D  
> More intel for the upcoming part (again incl. **SPOILER FOR THE WITCHER 3 AND ITS DLCs** ):  
> Regis – a higher vampire and good friend of Geralt and Jaskier. He had to go into hiding because he became anathema after killing another vampire (Dettlaff)  
> Anathema \- a sentence for vampires who have killed another vampire; the murderer is thereafter exiled from the community and to be killed on sight  
> Dettlaff – a vampire-fried of Regis, who saved Regis’ life once. Dettlaff fell for a human, Rhena, who was really the duchess Anarietta’s exiled sister Syanna. She used his love for her to fake her abduction and blackmail him to kill those responsible for her exile from court.  
> Orianna – another vampire living in Toussaint. She is the host of the Mandragora’s soirees and owns an orphanage outside of town – a lady of arts and welfare by day, a bloodthirsty Bruxa by night.

_There once was a merchant who travelled Touissaint_

_A man of the decent kind_

_His wares did delight, his tales brought much joy_

_Bad thoughts never graced his mind_

The sound reached him in his sleep and lured him to the border of consciousness. But it was the scent lingering in the air that caused the witcher’s eyes to flutter. When he opened them, he saw a siren. No, an incubus, swaying in front of his bookcase, flicking his fingers over the spines of the aligned tomes. The creature’s hips moved from side to side, while he hummed. Flickering candlelight danced oh his bare cheeks.

_Until his eyes fell on a siren_

_On the shores the lake Célavy_

_Her beauty bewitched him_

_His family ditched him_

_Their cries filled with agony_

Jaskier laughed, then quickly raised a hand to cover his mouth and turned around, an apologetic grin on his face. “Did I wake you?”

“…no.”, the witcher lied and lazily gestured for the bard to come back to bed. Jaskier followed his invitation, crawled on to the sheets and stalked over to him like a cat on the hunt. The wolf was quicker though. When the bard was close enough, he grabbed him by the waist and hurled him over while Jaskier laughed and pushed his hands against the witcher’s chest in mock-protest. Then Geralt paused his teasing and looked up at him.

“You look pale. Everything alright?”

Jaskier shrugged half-heartedly. The truth was, when he woke half an hour ago, his head had ached. It had started about a week ago and was probably to blame on him taking blockers again. Today though, his stomach didn’t feel quite right either. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten those chocolate gherkins he would definitely not tell Geralt about. What was he thinking? A weird night through and through, with a happy ending, thank Melitele.

“No. Yes. Well, it’s just these morning headaches the heat blockers give me.”

Geralt propped himself up on his elbows and leaned over to kiss the bard’s temple, mumbling: “Didn’t know. You never said anything.”

Jaskier’s mouth curved into an affectionate smile and he lay his head down on the alpha’s chest, listening to his incredibly slow heartbeat. “Nah, it’s just because I didn’t take them for a few weeks. Now my body is being weird about the back and forth.” He waved his hand in the air as a dismissive gesture. “It wouldn’t do me any good to dwell on it. There’s no way around taking them, I suppose.”

“Hmm.”

They lay together silent for a while, boasting in the easiness of the early hour. Geralt dug his hand in Jaskier’s brown hair and rubbed slow circles into his scalp, earning him a pleased noise from the omega.

“Maybe you shouldn’t take them then.”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you. Me having another heat.”

Jaskier yelped in surprise as Geralt’s other hand grabbed his ass. He laughed and tried to wiggle away. Again, not really though.

“I’m sure we would manage.” The alpha’s dirty tone and accompanying smile gave Jaskier an idea.

“They would be frequent. I’ve been on the potion for so many years.” As Geralt nuzzled his hair and inhaled him, the bard couldn’t resist and put his hand on the witcher’s stomach, caressing the skin around his navel. “My body would try to get knotted and knocked up. For days and days…”

A low growl told him he was on the right path.

“You like the idea of knocking me up?”

The bard swung his leg over Geralt’s hips, straddling him as he lowered himself into his lap.

“Of filling me with your cum, impregnating me.”

He rolled into the witcher’s lap playfully and Geralt answered with a pleased hum, grabbing his hips. Jaskier felt bold. Only briefly did he consider if his words were somewhat cruel, since the alpha would never be able to father children. The look on the his face didn’t show a hint of discomfort, quite the opposite. So the bard smiled seductively and rolled his hips again, taking control for once.

“You want to see me writhing, begging for your cock because you know exactly what I’m asking for: A piece of you inside me, in a place so deep that no other has ever reached it.”

His own words made him wet and yes, they were both hard already. Gosh, Geralt had turned him into an insatiable mess of a man.

“You want to plant your seed in me, watch it grow.” The witcher bucked up into him; encouraged him. ”Want to- ahh. Want to watch my belly grow with time.”

When he wiggled his hips a bit forward, he was able to align the witcher’s dick with his wet crack, stroking the thick shaft with his body. To emphasize his words, he let his hands wander to his own belly, putting them on the flat area just above his cock. Geralt moaned with pleasure when the omega slid his hips forward and back on him.

“Right here. You and me.”

Watching the alpha like that was exquisite. For once, he was at Jaskier’s mercy and he seemed to enjoy it. His eyes half closed, his mouth slightly open, he watched the omega in turn, as if the bard were an amazing creature hovering above him.

That’s when Jaskier lifted himself up slightly, grabbed Geralt’s cock and positioned it at his leaking entrance. He was still slightly loose from last night, but not as much as if he’d been prepared properly. When the alpha’s tip breached him, a high pitched, strangled sound escaped Jaskier’s mouth.

“You… you want to mark me from the inside. Claim me forever.”

Geralt’s hands were still on the bard’s hips, not guiding or pushing him down, but seeking something to hold on to. When Jaskier sunk lower bit by bit, pushing Geralt further into him, the grip became bruising. The witcher gritted his teeth, seemingly struggling against the sensation taking over him.

“You should be careful how you run that mouth, bard.”

“Not with you I don’t have to.”

A harsh rock of Geralt’s hips wrought a moan from Jaskier. But it was his turn to make a point, so he pressed his legs together, trapping the witcher and keeping him from taking initiative – and was met with an almost defiant gaze.

“You wouldn’t harm me.” He rotated his hips, sighing from the bliss of feeling Geralt so deeply inside of him. “I told you before: You can’t hurt me.”

When the witcher’s face softened, Jaskier slowly rose. He had barely adjusted to the girth of Geralt’s cock, so drawing it out of himself, being so tightly wrapped around it while the alpha watched took all his concentration.

“Why do you say that?”

Instead of answering, Jaskier sunk back down, impaling himself on Geralt again. His jaw dropped slightly, and he threw his head back with a silent moan at the sensation. Setting a slow pace, he started riding him in earnest.

“Because… because it’s true. You- uhh. You are so powerful, in so many ways.” He looked down at Geralt, both awe and affection in his eyes. “But you could never truly hurt me. That power, you don’t have.”

That’s what preachers must feel like, his hazy mind thought: Not needing anyone’s opinion; simply knowing something to be true. Geralt groaned and put his hands over Jaskier’s on his belly. This simple gesture sent electricity through the omega’s veins. He picked up his speed, milking the man underneath him.

“So do it. P-Plant yourself inside of me. Give me your seed.”

The witcher pushed himself up, something between frustration and despair in his eyes, and pulled the omega into his arms, as if to both trap and steady him. Jaskier fisted one hand in the alpha’s hair and kept going. He moaned when Geralt captured his mouth, meeting the alpha’s tongue with his.

As Jaskier felt his hole contract, he knew it wouldn’t be long now. Geralt grunted and started rhythmically thrusting up into him. This wasn’t like last night. This was slower, yet deeper. But it was just a game, wasn’t it? Just a game? The way they looked each other in the eye while fucking, the way they panted in each other’s mouths… There were no boundaries between them, nothing. They were melting into one another.

“Knock me up. I’m begging you… ahh please, Geralt.”

He meant it. He fucking meant it.

They came together; the witcher knotting the omega with a loud, possessive growl; Jaskier following suit with an ecstatic whimper as he felt the stretch and Geralt’s cum spilling inside his hole. The alpha kept fucking into him, doing exactly what his omega had asked while their joint hands were still resting on his lower abdomen.

“Shhh. Yeah, like that.”, he whispered into the witcher’s ear, slowly dragging his hand through the silver hair. “Give me everything… make me whole.”

Geralt moaned again and then paused in his movements. After a moment of sheer exhaustion for the two, the alpha’s hand on Jaskier’s back started to stroke soothing patterns into his skin. He kissed the mark on his neck, softly this time. The omega sighed, delighting in the feeling of being so full. Geralt looked up caught the bard’s lower lip, careful not to open up the cut again, and kissed him so gently that it left irreparable damage on the omega’s heart.

“That was…”

“Yeah…”, Jaskier agreed, hearing how raspy his voice had become from all the shouting and moaning during the last hours.

Geralt huffed, admiration and amusement in his eyes. “Fuck, you really are an incubus.”

“What?”

“Hmm. Nothing. How’s the headache?”

The bard shrugged. “Orgasms help apparently.”

“Good to know.”

They spent some more minutes together in bed, until Geralt eventually got up and went over to the small water basin in the corner. When he started dressing for the day, Jaskier -lazily resting from their morning fuck- watched the witcher from his still warm bed. He wanted to ask him if he had ever wanted children. Ever thought about what it would be like to leave a footprint in the sand of time. He pictured him, briefly, as a father. Taking a walk on the beach with a small human being on his shoulders or next to him. Leaving footprints...

He imagined what Geralt would say to that; remembered his answer to every what-if-you-weren’t-a-witcher kind of question. In the end, he didn’t ask.

“Didn’t have a chance to tell you before. I got a letter from Shani yesterday.”

“Shani? Why, I haven’t seen her in ages. What did she want?”

“Don’t know yet. Said she needs to talk to me personally but can’t come to Toussaint for some reason.”

“Is she in trouble?”

Geralt shook his head while tying his pants. “Didn’t seem so. Still insisted that it’s about something urgent and told me to find a megascope or xenovox so we can talk. Only that’s a lot to ask. Couldn’t find a single trace of anyone who would own either one or the other.”

Jaskier grabbed one of the pillows, put his arms around it and propped his head on top. “Wait. Is that why you were late?” It came back to his mind that he didn’t even ask Geralt what had held him up and he felt like an idiot.

“Hmm. And it’s also why I have to get going.” The witcher sat back down on the bed to tie his boots. “Although I have no idea where to, except maybe Sodden.”

Oh.

“Sodden. That’s… another country.”

The witcher paused and turned to Jaskier with an amused frown. “… yeah. It is.”

His panic grew as Geralt kept looking at him, apparently waiting for him to say anything else. Damn, why did he comment on it in the first place? What was he supposed to say now? ‘Don’t go’? ‘Take me with you’? He usually didn’t even ask; hell, most of the time Geralt said he shouldn’t come and Jaskier did anyway. So why did he feel so awkward now?

“I…”

No, no, he couldn’t be that guy. Clingy, mistaking the other’s intentions for something they were not. Geralt fucked him and did so very well, that didn’t mean he had to explain his every move or bring the bard along wherever we went.

“I wish you luck.”

What the hell. Had he ever behaved more cringeworthy? The corner of Geralt’s mouth twitched suspiciously, the bard groaned in shame and looked away.

“You wish me what now?”

“Don’t mock me, Geralt. What else am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to say?”

Jaskier turned back and glared daggers at him. Didn’t he know? Couldn’t he just offer, for Melitele’s sake? The sheets shuffled as Geralt leaned over, came close to the bard’s face and looked at him like he was being an unreasonable child; the kind that is really too sweet to me mad at. “How about I see to our provisions and ready Roach while you do whatever you have to and then meet me outside?”

“I think that would be agreeable.”, the bard snapped, half muffled by his pillow. Geralt nodded and before Jaskier could react, he had pinched his ass and left the bed.

“You-“

“Half an hour, Jaskier.”

“You- FINE!”

His pillow hit the door half a second after Geralt closed it and Jaskier turned in the sheets, pressing them to his heated face.

\- - -

The smirk wouldn’t leave his face – which seemed to startle B.B. when he extended his morning greetings in the hall, and outright frightened two workers on his way to the stable. Geralt knew very well that it wasn’t like him, thank you.

He had woken next to Jaskier a couple of times during the last weeks. But today, seeing him sway through the bedroom as if he belonged there... it did things to Geralt, meaning not only his cock. He couldn’t deny it: Coming home to the bard felt right. So much so that it frightened the White Wolf like no beast or gruesome curse could.

His life was not a comfortable one. Sure, he had Corvo Bianco and could hand pick his contracts, but he still came home covered in blood, sometimes his own. Just now with Jaskier, he had been torn for a second. Should he really encourage the bard to come with him? He hadn’t thought much of it before; after traveling with him for so long, he’d been sure he could take care of anything that could threaten Jaskier’s safety. Now though… he wasn’t so confident anymore. Because no matter what Jaskier said, he himself had hurt the omega.

His friend didn’t believe in the ritual of marking having any power over them. Even though he had felt it: When he begged Geralt to bite him, on that night fateful next to the river, when the omega’s heat had brought them both to their knees, literally. To Geralt, the heat had been nothing but a catalyst; a match that ignited a vast ocean of oil buried underneath their friendship. The witcher knew that to be true for him. But Jaskier…

Jaskier, even more than the witcher, was a free spirit. Being owned; claimed by one alpha was against his nature. If people treated him as someone else’s property would hurt him; imprison him in this age-old stigma. Considering how Geralt had reacted to seeing him with someone else just yesterday, it would take practise and his last bit of restraint. But even less then the thought of sharing him, he could stand the vision of a broken Jaskier; confined, unhappy.

In the end, the urge of having him close had won again today. Maybe the mark added to what he had already felt; their bond, whatever. It didn’t matter, not to Geralt. They would go to see a sorcerer somewhere in Lower Sodden and ask to use his megascope, not dive into a vampire fortress. So no reason to deny each other the company they both clearly wished for.

When he left the main house, the sun had already climbed close to its daily peak. Maybe he should think about installing more windows if working in daylight mattered to him. That or kicking Jaskier out. So definitely windows.

As he made his way over to the stables, something unexpected had him stop dead in his tracks. His medallion vibrated.

The witcher’s hand automatically went to the sword on his back. It couldn’t be, could it? Here, in his own vineyard? But the medallion never let him astray.

Not wanting to startle either the workers shuffling around the yard nor whatever hid away, he sneaked around the right corner, approaching the stable from the less obvious side. Roach was quiet but when he came closer to the large wooden doors, the vibrations became stronger.

Geralt drew silver. One of the workers saw him from across the yard and let his bucket fall to the ground. The witcher calmly signalled the man to leave the yard and with a frightened face, the worker grabbed the woman to his left and they scurried away into the grapevines. When he could sense no one else around, Geralt stepped away from the corner and into the doorway.

“Come out, slowly and with raised hands if you have any.”

A laugh. A female one.

“If I have any?” And she laughed some more. The velvety voice came out of the shadows and it was hard to tell from which one. “It seems I was right about you: Not as boring as your colleagues, are you?”

Geralt turned, unable to locate her. He had a vague clue about what was going on.

“Come now, witcher. If I wanted to harm you, you would’ve never made it out of the mountains.”

Dark smoke started swirling in front of him. He raised his sword higher but waited as the fumes morphed into the slim figure of a blonde woman. Her face was fair and eternally young, the light colours of her dress and its modest cut were unexpected, however.

“Emilia van Vasquess.”, she said with a smile that flashed her fangs. “You don’t know me. And yet, you chased after me and my beloved only a short while ago.”

Since she made no attempt to attack, the witcher kept his pose. “Where is he then, your beloved?”

“Safely back home. _Our_ home that’s is, not the estate of his rotten father.”

"Doesn’t seem so rotten to me, sending someone to rescue his son from a kidnapper.”

She rolled her eyes and looked at him with raised brows. An inelegant, very _unvampirelike_ thing to do, in Geralt’s experience. “You know very well that the lord only claimed I took his son by force. You have deduced as much while you were following us.”

“But you let him believe that.”

“Wrong again. He knew of us – and found it very unbecoming of his heir to fall for a creature like me. Hence, you.” She raised her hand as if to wipe over the matter. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. I know that I may have mislead you in the beginning-“

“Five weeks.”

She snickered. “You didn’t look bored though.”

Geralt growled. Of course. She had been watching them.

“As I was saying, I could have been a little less evasive. Please try to understand that I had to assess your intentions. And character. Many a witcher would not have cared for the why and how as long as the coin was right. Fortunately, you have proven to be the better kind. Thus, it is only fair that I in turn prove my good intentions to you.”

She stepped aside and gestured at something that had been behind her: Three thin, black metal posts, each of them with a pearly white crystal on top.

A megascope.

\- - -

Jaskier didn’t need long to prepare. Among his purchases from yesterday were a pair of rich brown boots, as well pants and a shirt that were not exactly unadorned, but a little plainer than his usual attire. He’d bought them just before gushing about how his countrymen lacked finesse and style with Verona and Meras, but well, there’s a time and a place for style. After his weeklong track through the wilderness, it just felt right to have a sturdier option. He approved of his reflection in the mirror, grabbed his bag and left the guestroom, realising that he quite looked forward to getting back on the road with Geralt.

When Jaskier hurried to the kitchen, he was met by his (second) favourite part of the household – Marlene. Gerald had saved her once and more or less adopted the elderly lady. After spending decades as a cursed being, unable to eat anything, Marlene loved nothing as much as cooking for Corvo Bianco day in and day out. She also turned out to be an enthusiastic lover of poetry and song, so, naturally, the bard had spent many a good evening with her in the hall.

“Light of my life, do you have any gherkins perhaps?”

Her face appeared behind a small mountain of potatoes and she smiled. “Gherkins, my dear?”

The bard nodded absently as a smell caught his attention. He followed his nose to the stove. “Yes, and perhaps something sweet? Like honey?”

She laughed and shook her head in disbelief. “What was it three days ago? Hare paté and camembert? You really are turning into a culinary adventurer, my boy.”

Jaskier didn’t really hear her, as he stared down into the frying pan. Onions and pork tenderloins quietly sizzled in a small lake of melted butter. The smell was… it was… Jaskier put his sleeve in front of his nose and mouth. It should’ve been lovely, mouth-watering! But he choked, stumbled away – and followed a sudden and very urgent need for fresh air.

Marlene hurried after him as fast she could and when she found him outside, kneeling between the house and the creek, the bard was grateful it had taken her a bit. The brioche he had for late breakfast ten minutes ago was on the ground in front of him. Jaskier reached into the small river to wash his hands and face, trying to get the disgusting taste off him. Only when he felt Merlene’s hand on his shoulder, he realised that he was shaking.

“My dear boy, what is the matter with you?”

“I don’t know… I think the meat you were cooking was off.”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “That can’t be, I just bought it fresh this morning. It seemed alright to me.”

“But this smell…” His body convulsed again; luckily, his stomach had nothing more to give.

Marlene’s hand came up to his forehead. “You are quite warm.”

No. No fever, please, no odd things like headaches and digestive problem. He simply refused to come down with a flu or something nasty like that. They would be on their way North soon and whatever shenanigans his body had planned, he would not let them ruin this.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Some fresh air, a bit of music and I’ll be as good as new.” The bard took a deep breath, climbed to his feet and forced a smile. Marlene did not seem convinced

“Well then, I suppose you know best. But be careful now, yes? I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my songbird.” Before she had made her way back to the house, she turned around once more. “Oh, would you still like those gherkins and the honey?”

His smile wavered as he pressed his lips together and shook his head. As soon as she was gone, he sank down on a nearby stone, facing away from the wasted brioche. Worries crept up in him. His heat had held Geralt back on their last journey. If Jaskier was to cause problems on their way to Sodden, the witcher might outright refuse to bring him along next time.

“Damnit, Julian.”, he huffed to himself. “What are you doing?”

\- - -

“Thought you would come to me eventually. Didn’t know you’d spy on me though.”

Emilia extended a finger to poke one of the crystals, then proceeded to rhythmically tab her fingernails on it. She looked pleased with herself.

“Because of the megascope? Come on, do you really intend to complain when my caution brought you the very thing you wanted?”

She had a point.

“Fine, so what-“

Footprints approaching from outside the barn had both witcher and vampire stand in attention. Then, Jaskier’s face appeared next to the stable door. Damnit, he was too early.

“I said half an hour.”

“You also said Shani needs to talk to you urgently, so making good time is- …Geralt?”

The bard’s eyes had fallen to the silver sword in the witcher’s hand. When he looked up in surprise, he spotted the unknown woman. Geralt took a step forward to stand in-between them. She flashed the bard an amused smile, revealing her fangs again. After a few seconds of silence, the Florin finally seemed to drop with Jaskier and he froze.

“Geralt. Is this-“

“Yes.”

The realisation hit him like a brick: Her! The beast that had lured them into the wilderness for naught; without whom his heat, fucking Geralt, the marking wouldn’t have happened. He found himself to be both very angry and very grateful at the same time – but decided to focus on the anger for now.

“Do you have any idea, what- what-”

“Oh, it’s you.”, she exclaimed mockingly, still smiling. “I wasn’t sure. You look different from this angle. Kudos for flexibility, by the way.”

The most exquisite crab cooked in the hottest water by the finest chef could not have turned redder than the bard did in this very moment. “YOU LITTLE-“

“Jaskier, enough!”

Only Geralt’s arm in front of his chest kept him from walking right up to the self-righteous creature. However, she vanished into thin air – only to appear directly behind the bard and whisper: “Don’t worry, nightingale. He enjoyed it too; very much in fact.”

Jaskier cursed, tried to swing at her, but of course, she had already dissolved again.

“Argh! What is it with these vampires in Toussaint? Do the people here have funny blood?”

“No.”, Geralt stated dryly. “They have wine-soaked blood.”

“Oh. Well.”, Jaskier huffed irritated. “I guess that makes sense.”

“If the two of you are quite finished exchanging ridiculous presumptions”, Emilia said, dangling her feet from a beam above their heads. “I would like to get to the point please. We have yet to discuss the terms of you borrowing my megascope, witcher.”

She made a point of displaying the three crystals in her hands. Damnit. She must’ve snatched them on her way up. Geralt let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine. What do you want?”

“A contact. For you to set up a meeting between me and one of your friends. A very old friend in fact. You mentioned him in the mountains.”

Even Jaskier knew who she likely meant by that. “Regis.”, he mumbled.

“Clever bird.”

Geralt hesitated. “What do you want from him?”

“Just a small chat, don’t worry. He might have some valuable advice regarding my current… situation.”

“You mean on how not to kill your human mate?”, the bard suggested.

“Jaskier!” Geralt shot him a look that clearly told him to shut up. He knew the kind; got them four times a day. And didn’t care.

A faint smile grazed the vampiress’s mouth. “I see that you share quite a lot with your bard, witcher.”

“To be honest, he doesn’t really share much with anyone except his horse.” Roach huffed in her corner of the stable. Meticulous timing.

“Anyway.”, Geralt intervened mildly annoyed. “It won’t be easy to find him. He’s being hunted by your kind. If you didn’t already know that.”

She sighed and rocked back and forth on her swing, like an impatient child during a tedious lecture. “You’re referring to his state as anathema. Yes, yes, I know… dreadful business. That’s why I need your help. I know where he is; finding him was not the problem but getting him to talk to me. For all he knows, I’m just another fellow vampire who’s after his throat. But you aren’t one of us and seem to know him well. Too well to be just another disposable human.”

“That’s the point: Humans are not disposable to him.”

“Hence we must meet. And if you want to use my megascope, this is my price.”

The witcher groaned. Another favour for another favour only to get an inch closer to what he was really working on. It was tiring and somehow, he had a bad feeling that he got himself involved into yet another string of clusterfucks waiting to happen.

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

She hopped off her beam, landed in front of Geralt and extended her hand with a more sincere smile. He accepted. “I suppose we have a deal. And who knows, if our doing business with each other is fruitful…” Geralt believed to see her gaze briefly on Jaskier at that. “…maybe we can even help each other with other matters in the future.”

“Marvellous.”, he commented flatly, and took his hand back. He had no interest in more shady deals with her. “Just tell me where Regis is.”

She turned and made her way to the exit. “Not far. In fact, right under your nose.”

“That can’t be. He wanted to hide in the south.”

“… and left plenty of evidence for that, right? A journal entry if I heard correctly.” She winked. “Like throwing a stone in the opposite direction of a hideout. While sneaking out the other way.”

Geralt snorted. “The oldest trick in the book and you’re telling me he did that?”

“You overestimate my species, Geralt. After all, it worked on most of them. But believe me when I tell you: He is exactly where he was before he did what he was convicted for. I’ll meet you there.”

With that, the vampiress dissolved into black smoke, which quickly made its way outside the stable doors.

Geralt sheathed his sword. This was either an elaborate trap by surviving vampires from the attack on Beauclair, or something else entirely. Something wasn’t right and he didn’t need his medallion to tell him.

“Sooo, I take it we’re not going to Sodden.” Jaskier walked over to the incomplete megascope and examined one of the rings that were supposed to hold the crystals.

“No.”, the witcher replied, his frown still directed at the spot Emilia had just left. “I’m going. To Mère-Lachaiselongue cementary.”

The bard lowered his bag to the ground. “What do you mean ‘you’?”

Geralt only shot him a stern, telling look and Jaskier raised his hands and voice in defiance immediately. “Oh no, witcher, don’t do that. Don’t tell me you plucked me from bed and got me excited for Sodden just to ground me now?”

“Sodden was about visiting a sorcerer on simple business. This is a higher vampire claiming to know where Regis is and effectively luring me into the unknown. I don’t trust her.”

“Which is why I should come!”

“Not to this, no.”

“Geralt-“

The witcher turned his back on Jaskier and went over to Roach. There was no point in arguing with him, if the last years had taught him anything. But he had to draw a line here. If he found Regis at the cemetery, fine, but any other possibility was more likely. He wouldn’t put the bard at risk if not even he himself knew what this was really about. Geralt finally had to take responsibility.

“It’s not far.”, he said, strapping his belongings to Roaches saddle. “Regis stayed there while we worked on the case around Dettlaff and Syanna. If Emilia is right, he’s still there and I should return soon with the crystals.”

Jaskier didn’t reply. When the witcher turned around, the stable was empty. Distant footsteps stomped back to the house. Geralt cursed.

\- - -

Mère-Lachaiselongue was as inviting as it had been last time. Which was a lot more inviting than any graveyard in Temeria. These southeners… even their cemeteries were somewhat romantic. Geralt dismounted Roach and led her to the gravestone of Rafael Yaky.

“You think about how I can tame the bard in the meantime.”

She snorted in horse, surely a sign of agreement, and the witcher turned to enter the half-crumbled entrance of Regis’ crypt.

No trace of Emilia. Although that didn’t mean much with vampires. Geralt groaned while carefully making his way underground. He just needed these damn crystals and hoped what whatever Shani had to say was worth the trouble. With every step, he grew wearier of the task. No new traps or illusions. If Regis was in fact here, he had made a shitty job of setting up defences for unwelcome intruders.

When he arrived in the main chamber, Geralt lit a torch. He heard nothing except a few rat claws scraping on stone in the corners. Would they come so close to a vampire’s lair? Before he could evaluate any clues, his medallion hummed again. The witcher slowly approached the sarcophagus in the centre of the crypt.

“Regis?”

A thud. Another thud – and the heavy stone lid began to move aside. Geralt’s hand reached for his silver sword.

“Easy now, whoever you are.”

Just when he thought the lid would crash to the ground, it stopped moving. A hand rose from the coffin, stretching up its index finger.

“Give me a minute, my friend.”

The relief that the familiar voice sent through Geralt had him smile. “It really is you. Didn’t think she told the truth.”

A long face framed by grey hair and sideburns appeared and then, Regis climbed out of his sleeping spot. The vampire dusted off his robes before opening his arms for a friendly embrace. “Firstly, it’s good to see you. I didn’t think we’d meet again so soon.”

“Me neither. Thought you were hiding in the south.”

“As everyone should still believe, I hope. How did you know where I really was?”

“There’s at least one of your kind who didn’t fall for your false clues. Emilia van Vasquess. That name ring a bell?”

Regis thought for a second before he shook his head. “No, I can’t say it does.”

“She sent me. Want’s to talk to you about abstinence. She has a human mate; Jaskier and I chased them for a few weeks because the man’s father claimed he’d been abducted.”

Regis laughed. “Classic. ‘A creature of the night stole my heir’. I suppose they went willingly?”

“According to the evidence, yes.”

Something dawned on the vampire’s face.

“Ah. So that was her. I sensed a presence a few days ago, lurking around on the surface. But no one tried to come into the crypt.”

“That’s why she came to me eventually. I mentioned you to Jaskier when we were following them and she overheard. Guess she did some research, but decided she better not startle you by breaking in. With the anathema an all...”

“Yes, yes. Clever one.” Regis stretched his limbs and leaned on the open sarcophagus. “I was planning on sleeping a few years; live down the first wave of eager hunters. But I am pleasantly surprised to see you, Geralt. And even under my precarious circumstances, I am relieved that our last shared adventure did not put you off helping my kind.”

“Hmm. I don’t help her out of the goodness of my heart.”, the witcher admitted. “She has something I need. A megascope. Shani asked for help, but that’s another story.”

“One I am eager to hear later if you have time. Will you stay in Toussaint for a while or are you only here for a contract? I was hoping you’d eventually settle down in your vineyard.”

“Hmm. Actually kind of have for the moment.”

A knowing smile crept onto the vampire’s lips. “Well, good on you my friend. Did Yennifer join you?”

“Ehem... not quite, no.”

_But I have a nagging bard who I don’t want to send away._

“Hmm. I can tell there’s a story there. What do you say, shall we greet my guest outside and talk after business?”

Geralt’s eyes shot to the entrance. “She’s here? Damn, I never really now with you guys…”

Regis pushed himself of the stone coffin and padded the witcher’s shoulder on his way out. “Don’t dwell on it. There are plenty of situations when you’d prefer to not know someone’s watching.

 _You don’t say_ , the witcher thought and grit his teeth.

They made their way back to the surface, where Regis’ senses proved him right. Emilia was casually lounging on a grave, combing through her blonde hair and talking to Roach.

“Don’t bother my horse.”

“We entertained each other while you were away. Such a wise creature. You are lucky.” She rose to stand, and Regis stepped forward.

“Emilia, I presume.”

The vampiress bowed her head. “And you must be Regis. I thank you for seeing me.”

“As you know, I don’t have a full schedule at the moment. But I assume you are not here to kill me.”

For the first time since the witcher met her, Emilia’s face lost its flippancy. “If I were to adhere to the anathema, I might as well kill myself. You and I are in a similar situation.”

Regis brows rose. “Is that so?” He exchanged a glance with the witcher. So Geralt had been right; this wasn’t just about her craving for blood. “Come then, let us talk.”

Regis pointed at the crypt and she followed his invitation. Before she could pass the entrance though, Regis said: “I believe you had a deal with Geralt?”

“True and I intend to keep my end of the bargain.” She turned to the witcher. “You will receive the crystals once Regis and are finished. Is that agreeable?”

Geralt groaned. “Fine. But make it quick.”

She had the audacity to wink at him. Regis just shrugged and followed her.

As he sat down on the grave Emilia had just been on, the witcher’s mind wandered to Yen. Of course Regis would think that she came to live with him. Not too long ago, he himself assumed that they would eventually end up like this. The witcher and the sorceress from all the fabled songs... By divine intervention or whatever played with destiny again, it was not the witch but the writer of said songs who was waiting for him at home. _If_ he was waiting after how they had not said goodbye earlier.

“Did you come up with something?”, he asked Roach. And did she actually shake her head at that?

Either way, Jaskier had to talk to him. Simply because Geralt would not tell him to leave; would not replace him with Yennifer or anyone else. He didn’t want to.

The witcher decided to make use of his waiting time and collect his thoughts; ground himself to recover some of his usual calm. He was mostly absent as afternoon turned into evening; evening turned into night. Eventually, some time after sun and moon had changed their shifts, his meditation was interrupted by a velvety voice.

“Aren’t you concerned for the archespores around here?”

“Took care of them before I made myself comfortable.”

When he opened his eyes, Emilia stood in front of him, arms crossed and a mildly interested look on her face. “You certainly are useful, Geralt of Rivia.”

“Hmm. Had a good talk?”

“Indeed. Thanks again for accompanying me. I believe these are yours for the time being.” She tossed him the crystals and he caught them. Finally. “I have to see to some things, but I believe we’ll see each other again quite soon, for better or worse.”

And before he could tell her that he’d rather not see her again for either, she vanished. Regis emerged from the tomb shortly after and sat down next to the witcher.

“And?”

“What a curious woman you have brought me, Geralt.”

“She’s not like other higher vampires.”

“Indeed. She has a, shall we say, more carefree take on things. Doesn’t much bother with vanities. I believe it has something to do with her interest in humans, though I doubt our mutual hobby is based on the same motives.”

“You mean her companion?”

Regis nodded.

“The thirst is a problem, yes, not one that she won’t be able to control with time though. Rarely have I seen such dedication from a vampire when it came to their human lover. Dettlaff was one exception.”

When he mentioned that name, Geralt felt the regret resurface. Dettlaff had been Regis’ friend and after the whole mess that was the duchess’s sister, he had to die because Regis chose Geralt’s life over his. Not only did he have to wipe Dettlaff from existence, he was also sentenced to death by the vampire community for that.

“I’m sorry.”, the witcher said.

“I know. And we’ve talked about this. He gave us not much of a choice in the end.” Regis waved his hand as if to dismiss this not-yet old wound. “Either way, Emilia’s predicament is similar to his – and to mine as well.” His face changed into a worried frown. “You surely remember our acquaintance from the Mandragora, Lady Orianna?”

Geralt nodded. “Another friend of yours.”

“We used to be, yes. However, she seems to stir some trouble these days. It seems Emilia and her have a dispute of sorts. To be more precise, Orianna is blackmailing her. When she found out about Emilia’s human companion, she sent another vampire after him – one that Emilia killed, as Orianna had planned. Now she is threatening her with making the murder public-“

“-so that Emilia becomes anathema too.”

“Exactly. Although Emilia did not go as far as to tell me why Orianna decided to go after her and what she demands of her. All she said was that if I knew, I’d feel obliged to stop Orianna. To conclude: She asked me to join forces against our lady of the Beauclairian arts.”

Geralt had listened intently and now wondered: “Is that why she fled with her lover? Why they travelled so deep into the mountains: Not because she wanted to shake us off, but she tried to get around killing Orianna’s henchman and becoming anathema?”

“If so, it did not work. The sentence hangs over her head like a guillotine. As soon as Orianna spreads the word, Emilia and her lover both are fair game.”

Geralt couldn’t help making a disgusted noise at that. “That is exactly what Syanna did to Dettlaff: Threatening the kill his companion to use him for her murders.”

“We don’t know if Orianna has Emilia kill folk, but yes, it is the same strategy.”

They were silent for a while, both staring at the palace in the distance.

“Didn’t she tell you to keep this from me?”, Geralt eventually asked.

“No, she didn’t. She knows I have more ties to you than to her and thus, she likely left out the perilous details. After all, it would complicate matters if you felt inclined to hunt her down for whatever Orianna commands her to do.”

“Sneaky as they come.”

“I won’t argue with that, though I sympathise with her.” Regis got up. “Return for the night. I shall meet you in Corvo Bianco in the morning if you don’t mind. My exile would in fact be much more bearable if I could visit you from time to time, for some Mahakaman spirit and a game of cards, now that we both know we’re neighbours, more or less. I would also like to see Jaskier again. And Shani, if you plan on contacting her anyway.”

“Be my guest. Jaskier wants to see you too. Could barely keep him from coming today.”

His friend’s eyes studied him inquisitively. “You never kept him from coming anywhere, as far as I can remember.”

But Geralt didn’t feel like explaining something he wasn’t yet ready to admit out loud to himself. Instead, he just muttered: “It’s complicated.”

An unnerving, knowing smile stuck to Regis when they said Goodbye and as the witcher rode off into the moonlight, he thought once more that vampires were too clever for their own good.

\- - -

Geralt was briefly startled when he entered his bedroom and didn’t find the bard on the bed. Only then it dawned on him that technically, they didn’t usually sleep together in here. He then took the staircase to the guestroom, where Jaskier lounged on the sheets, aimlessly plucking the strings of his lute.

“There you are.”, the witcher said, leaning on the wall facing the bed.

“Here I am. Congratulations, you accomplished your treasure hunt. I am still in the place you confined me to.”

 _Confined_.

His tone was light despite his words; an attempt to hide something true in a joke. Geralt knew he did that when he was hurt. When the witcher walked over and sat down on the bed, the bard wouldn’t look at him.

“Jaskier.”

The omega huffed, put his instrument to the side and raised his eyebrows in a silent, defiant question. Apart from his obviously rotten mood, Geralt found that his face was still a bit pale.

“Can’t apologize for wanting to keep you safe. Don’t try to make me.”

For a second, the anger seemed to return to the bard’s eyes. His mouth opened- and closed. Until he crossed his arms and remained unusually silent, his face still stubborn. Geralt sighed, but just as he wanted to get up and leave the bard to his sulking-

“Make up for it.”

The witcher paused in his movements, looked at him and crossed his arms, both bewildered and amused.

“Don’t apologize. Make up for it.”, Jaskier repeated and raised his chin. “It has been a shit day, Geralt. And I don’t feel like talking. So…” He opened the first button of his shirt. “Make…”

The second. “Up…”

The third. “For…”

The last. “It.”

Geralt looked at him, both bewildered and amused. The witcher was tired from the tedious hours of waiting, was hungry and exhausted from vampire intrigues. But the way Jaskier looked at him, angry and hurt but also very horny – well.

The day ended as it had started, only that the matrass Geralt fucked Jaskier into was not as wide. Then again, this made for excellent, full body friction in the aftermath. While they lay in the messy sheets, entangled and facing each other, the alpha shared what had happened on the cemetery. Hearing that Regis would come to visit in the morning seemed to somewhat lift the bard’s mood.

“And the lady hosting the cursed Mandragora is a vampire too? Oh, why am I even surprised at this point...” He rolled his eyes. “Are you actually planning to get involved in this, after the trouble we had with this Emilia?”

“Might have to. She didn’t tell Regis what she does for Orianna. Save to say it’s not field work though.”

“Geralt.” The bard’s fingers tried to smoothen the frown that had accompanied the witcher most of the day. Jaskier no longer sounded accusing but concerned. “You gave her what she wanted, and she paid you in crystals, fair and square. Focus on Shani and whatever she needs for now, not on the damn vampire.”

Geralt closed his eyes and enjoyed the soft touches of the omega. “If it wasn’t for her…”

“I know.”

Unknowingly, both of them were immensely grateful to the irritating vampiress. Unknowingly, both of them feared that the other might feel different about that.

Jaskier hummed into the otherwise undisturbed silence of the guestroom. Geralt had one arm around him as if he wanted to make sure the omega didn’t fall out of the bed.

“What happens next?”, the witcher asked, his deep voice low and drowsy.

“What do you mean?”

“In your song. To the merchant and siren.”

Jaskier seemed to think about it, then suggested: “A witcher comes along and rescues the man. He returns to his family.”

“And the siren?”

“What do you think?”

“Hmm. If what you write is realistic this time, the witcher kills her.”

Jaskier didn’t answer right away; his eyes lost in either memories or thoughts.

“Maybe. But I think she dies of a broken heart.”

“… she loved the merchant back.”

“She did.”

The witcher frowned again. He looked unconvinced.

“What is it? You don’t like it?”

“No.”

The bard hummed some more before he spoke. “I suppose if she didn’t love the merchant, the whole song would be rather-“

“I mean, I don’t like the dying of a-broken-heart part. Or the killing.”

“…oh.” When the omega spoke again, his tone was different. Lighter and a faint bit hopeful perhaps. “Then what if she stays with the witcher?”

“Better. What becomes of them?”

Jaskier sighed. “If only I knew, Geralt.”


End file.
